


suivez-moi, chasser moi

by mochis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Art Thief AU, Crimes & Criminals, Heist, M/M, Museums, more SouthernerTM Alfred, rating miiiight change, the asakiku is VERY onesided
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23870269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochis/pseuds/mochis
Summary: “This is the detective who went rogue a few weeks ago, no?”“He did not go rogue,” Arthur nearly snapped. “He was kidnapped.”“Kidnapped?” Francis’ lips pulled back into an amused grin. “By that spooky art thief everyone is raving on about? I doubt that, Arthur.”
Relationships: America/Japan (Hetalia), England/France (Hetalia), England/Japan (Hetalia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	1. une paire impaire

**Author's Note:**

> (an odd pair)
> 
> oh nooooooo not another fucking art thief installment

Late one afternoon, in a city that was too crowded with tourists with too much excitement to go around, a man found himself walking into one of the most prestigious art museums in the world like a child walking into a candy store.

He carried himself quietly, glancing from the map in his hands towards the artworks covering the walls as he shuffled past crowds and groups towards a particular section of the museum. His eyes, piercingly blue, were hidden behind wire framed glasses and under a cap from Louisiana State University. Blonde locks peeked out from under the cap, curling outwards slightly. 

There was a crowd gathered around one of the walls of the museum, snapping photos of the rebellious  _ Liberty Leading the People.  _ The man himself was quite impressed as he moved closer, blending in with the crowd that happened to be a guided tour. 

A small sign that read “Follow Me for a Tour” was held up by a man that didn’t look to be much. The blonde listened in on his explanation of how the piece came to be, who painted it, and how the museum wound up so lucky and grateful that it was in their possession. He watched the guide with attentive eyes, taking note of the way he used his hands to explain things, the pattern on his lanyard, his employee ID hanging around his neck. He spoke in flawless french, switching to an english translation smoothly afterwards. 

The crowd shuffled away once the guide announced the end of the tour, offering to answer any personal questions. When no one else approached him, the blonde stepped forward. 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he came to stand next to him. “Quite a beaut.”

The guide held his hands folded behind his back, looking up towards the painting rather disinterestedly. “Very. The history behind this piece is fascinating.” 

“That what you tell everybody?”

“I know how to play the part,” the guide said, tucking a strand of jet black hair behind his ear, “You’re struggling with yours. I could spot you from a mile away.”

“That’s just ‘cause you can’t take your eyes off of me.” The man replied, taking his map out from his back pocket. He pointed to a random area, making it seem as if he were asking for directions. “‘Sides, I’m working security. Not as a tourist.”

“And you can barely do  _ that  _ right. I heard the other guards complaining about you.” The guide pointed somewhere else, tracing his finger upwards on the map. “Did you get photos of -”

“Yup. Found ‘em all.” He folded up the map, “You worry too much, darlin’. Thought being around me woulda helped you outta that habit.”

The guide offered a smile too kind to be genuine. “The exact opposite.”

The blonde tipped his hat before walking away, melting into the crowd easily. The guide didn’t spare him another glance, weaving his way through the halls and throngs of people. He had another tour to lead in ten minutes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates will be slow bc idk where this is gonna go I just wanted more kiku+alfred being sneaky :)


	2. le nouveau cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the new case)

Arthur Kirkland knew something wasn’t quite right.

It might have something to do with the off-brand cigarettes he barely managed to swipe from the pharmacy down the block, or it might have something to do with his best and brightest detective gone missing. 

Kiku Honda was not the type of person who would just  _ disappear _ . He hadn’t even turned in his two weeks notice, nor had he ever expressed leaving the force to begin with. He liked his job. He liked his coworkers. He liked Arthur. 

Well. Kiku never expressed  _ that,  _ either. But he was not the type of person who would abandon his work, work that he was  _ good  _ at. 

Arthur wanted to tear his hair out, but settled for taking a long drag from his cigarette. Kiku’s disappearance came as a shock to the rest of the precinct. Even  _ if _ he left of his own accord, he would have been formal about it, would have brought it to the attention of his superiors and they all could have moved on peacefully. 

But he had a hunch as to what happened, with a map as evidence. 

Arthur stared at the red letters scrawled across the map, reading the message - “Sorry about that drink!” - over and over until his eyes ached. He had torn it down and put it on his own desk in his office, pushing aside stacks of paperwork that were long overdue in lieu of this new case he had taken up. 

Finding Kiku was of the utmost importance. It was clear the Black Ghost had taken him hostage for nearly sending him to prison all those months ago. Arthur never had the chance to meet the man, but he was sure he was nothing more than scum of the earth, trying to get back at Interpol by stealing away one of their most esteemed detectives. The thought made Arthur grind his teeth in frustration; who knows what Kiku could be going through at the hands of that thief? 

Looking over the evidence Arthur had managed to gather thus far - most, if not all, taken straight from Detective Honda’s office - had gotten him considerably far. He knew the thief left his signature silk bandana behind at every crime scene, but managed to leave them without any traces of DNA. He knew he had been successfully hitting major cities within Europe for the past few months, but hadn’t made a new move since Kiku’s disappearance. He knew the Black Ghost was possibly considering moving onto Asia, which would leave Arthur powerless. There were countless other bits of information Kiku had managed to gather on the thief stashed within his file cabinets, but Arthur hadn’t managed to go through all of them yet. 

A firm set of knocks at his door brought him out of his staring match with the map on his desk. He stubbed his cigarette out on the ashtray on his desk with a heavy sigh, “Come in.”

Detective Beilschmidt cleared his throat as he entered, nodding towards Arthur, “Sir, the transfer detective is here. Would you like to -”

“Send him in,” Arthur said, waving him off. He kept his eyes trained on the map. “And thank you.”

The detective glanced behind him before holding the door open, allowing said transfer detective to step into the room. Arthur glanced up from his desk, meeting pale blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. 

The door shut behind Beilschmidt, leaving the two alone. 

“I’ve heard great things about you,  _ Monsieur  _ Kirkland,” The man said, a playful lilt in his voice that automatically grinded on Arthur’s nerves. 

_ Perfect,  _ Arthur thought,  _ he’s fucking French.  _

“Yes, well,” He said, clearing his throat, “I’ve worked hard to get where I am. And I expect you to do the same, Detective…?”

“Bonnefoy.” The blonde offered his hand to shake, concealed with a dark leather glove. Arthur eyed it before shaking his hand once. “Though my friends call me Francis.”

“Great, then I will stick with calling you Bonnefoy.” Arthur said. Francis visibly deflated, but said nothing.

Arthur stood from his desk, motioning for the other to follow him out of the office. “Now, Detective Bonnefoy, as I’m sure you’ve heard, our main priority is to find the whereabouts of the Black Ghost. We have reason to believe he has kidnapped one of our own, Kiku Honda.”

Francis glanced at the office behind them “Yes, I’ve been briefed. After all, I’m here to replace him.”

That’s right. He was simply a replacement until they found Kiku, Arthur reminded himself. Not “if” but  _ “when” _ they found him. Besides, judging from the way he carried himself - arrogantly charming with an air of overwhelming geniality - Bonnefoy was not going to last long around Arthur’s precinct. He could barely stand Feliciano’s early morning energy as it was. 

Arthur led him through the twisting hallways of the rather small building, crammed in between a bakery and an apartment complex in the middle of London. The city wasn’t quite home to Arthur, but he could fit in easier than most. The man trailing behind him stuck out like a sore thumb, however. 

“Right, well. I’m sure you can introduce yourself to the rest of the office later,” Arthur said, turning a corner into a room lined with desks. “But this is the immediate team we will be working with.”

Arthur nodded towards Ludwig, who sat at his desk with glasses perched on his nose, “Ludwig, whom I’m sure you met earlier and…” He did a quick scan of the room. “Where’s your brother?”

“Right here, right here,” A voice came in from their left, attached to a lanky man holding two styrofoam cups of steaming coffee. He set one of the cups down on Ludwig’s desk, glancing towards Arthur and Francis before grinning. “Oh, is this the newbie? I didn’t know he was showing up today. Would have grabbed you a cup.”

“It was  _ your  _ job to escort him to Arthur,” Ludwig muttered, blowing the steam away from his cup. “If you hadn’t overslept, per usual, Gilbert.”

“Be that as it may,  _ Monsieur  _ Bonnefoy will be joining our team in our search for Kiku and the Black Ghost.” Arthur said, clearing his throat. “He came well recommended.”

“I look forward to working with you both.” Francis offered, smiling towards the pair. They made odd siblings - completely different hair colors, different eye colors, even slightly different shades of the same pale skin - but Francis wondered if they worked well together. He guessed they must be pretty high up the ladder for Arthur to trust them enough to put them on the “rescue-Kiku” team.

Which, speaking of, was completely ridiculous. But Francis wasn’t about to mouth off to his superior any time soon - not with how seriously he was taking this supposed “case”. 

Arthur nodded towards Ludwig. “Did you look into what I asked you to earlier?” 

The blonde reached for a folder that seemed empty, flipping it open to reveal a single sheet of paper. “Yes, though this was all I was able to gather.”

“Not really much of a lead, Art.” Gilbert muttered into his coffee, shrugging off a glare from his brother. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, taking the folder as it was handed to him. “Expect a new assignment in fifteen minutes. Ah, and brief  _ Monsieur  _ Bonnefoy on what we’ve gotten so far.” 

Once the man was down the hall, Gilbert turned towards Francis with a grin. “So, got off to a bad start with the boss already, huh?”

“It would seem that way,” Francis sighed, though he matched his smile. “Though, I’m not too sure why. I hardly got to talk properly with him.”

“With how invested he is in this case, I wouldn’t expect much of a warm welcome.” Gilbert said, before pursing his lips. “Well, even if Kiku hadn’t gone AWOL, Arthur just isn’t much for making new friends.”

“I wonder why.”

Gilbert quirked an eyebrow, laughing. “You’re gonna do just well here.”


	3. l'accord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the deal)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is up. grad school is hell so imma revert back to ameripan mode

_ “You really wanna know where I stashed those art pieces?” _

_ The detective wasn’t quite sure how to answer, settling for a reluctant, “Um… Yes?”  _

_ Alfred smiled. “One condition.” _

In all honesty, Kiku thought Alfred was joking as he followed him down the fire escape. He thought he was joking as he slid onto the back of a busted up motorbike with a broken headlight, holding onto the blonde’s waist tight. He  _ really  _ thought he was joking as they pulled up to an unassuming apartment complex, stepping onto an elevator to reach the fourth floor. 

Kiku was ready to burst out laughing when Alfred opened the door to his apartment, gesturing for him to step inside, but all he could do was stare - 

Directly at every single prized canvas he had been chasing for the past handful of years. All lined against the walls, some hanging lopsidedly against the walls. 

He was expecting Alfred to start laughing. To clap him on the back and say “just kidding! These are just copies!”, but it never came, even as he took a seat on the plush sofa, a glass of sweet tea sitting on the coffee table in front of him. The space was small but looked to be quite lived-in, with a few picture frames scattered across the walls that didn’t have paintings on them and on shelves. Several art books and magazines were stacked on bookshelves and on the coffee table, filled with multi-colored sticky note tabs peeking out from between the pages. 

Alfred emerged from the kitchen with his own glass of sweet tea. Kiku had yet to touch his own glass, after catching a glimpse of Alfred shoveling spoonfuls of the powdery stuff into a pitcher of water. 

“Sorry, that’s the only type of tea we got,” The blonde said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We don’t really drink the fancy stuff.”

“We?” asked Kiku, before glancing at the picture frames around the room. “Someone else lives here?”

“Remember that call I got back when you first cornered me?” When Kiku nodded, Alfred grinned. “That was my brother, who was also my getaway driver.”

“And the one who broke you out.” Kiku said dryly, bringing his glass to his lips. He grimaced after he swallowed, setting his glass down as Alfred laughed. 

“Yup, that was Matt. That was the last straw, though.” Alfred said, plopping down onto the sofa next to Kiku. “Said he was sick of my shit and wanted out of the family business.”

Kiku glanced around the room before crossing a leg over the other. “ Stealing… is your family business.” 

It was not a question. Alfred leaned back with a smile that made the other want to punch it off.

He took a drink from his own glass, swallowing down the sugar better than Kiku would ever be able to. “What can I say? Mom liked collectin’ art for the house. She just had different ways of gettin’ ‘em.” 

“You were raised to be a thief.” 

“I was raised to be  _ resourceful _ , officer.”

“Why steal? You’re obviously bright. You would even do decent as a cop.”

“You’d  _ love _ that, wouldn’t you?” Alfred reached over to squeeze Kiku’s thigh and got his hand batted away. “Look, I like to eat ‘n all, but I’m no pig.”

Kiku scoffed, uncrossing his legs to stand from the couch. There were pieces littered around the room that he had been chasing for  _ years _ \- and yet, for them to be sitting right in front of him in the middle of a cramped apartment was simply… underwhelming. The detective had half hoped for them to be stored in an elaborate vault. 

But looking at the man who managed to take all of these paintings, it was obvious that that wasn’t his style. Alfred would probably stack them on top of each other and shove them into a closet if he could, just to make more room for others. 

Kiku carefully picked up a framed Van Gogh piece,  _ Irises.  _ “What are you planning on doing with them?”

“I sell ‘em, usually. Sometimes I trade for better looking ones,” Alfred said, nodding towards the one in Kiku’s hands, “But I wanna keep some of them, like that one. For my house, someday, y’know?”

Kiku really shouldn’t be surprised as to how nonchalant Alfred was going about treating artwork worth millions - perhaps even  _ billions -  _ of dollars. 

He set the painting down gingerly, turning to face the thief. “So, what is your condition for showing these to me, Jones?”

Alfred set his glass down, leaning towards Kiku to rest his elbows on his knees. Kiku tensed at his smile. “Y’know, you’re pretty sharp for an officer. You could do real good workin’ with me.”

Kiku blinked. “Work… with you.”

“It’d be fun! Stealing isn’t so bad once you get used to it, and we’d only be taking from museums and hotshots, so -”

“Why would you - Why would I ever…” Kiku took a moment to compose himself, carding a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. “How could you ask me to leave my  _ career _ \- possibly my whole  _ life -  _ behind?” 

“You could go on being a cop at the same time -”

“And just let you get away with everything at the last minute? Alfred, interpol isn’t as stupid as you think.”

“It isn’t as fulfilling as  _ you _ make it out to be, either, huh? Are you really getting anything out of obsessing over criminals like me? Besides a spot in the paper for a week before something else trumps that?”

Kiku bristled, opening his mouth to say something before closing it. He glanced back towards the paintings sitting against the walls, Alfred’s words bouncing in his head. All this time, he had never doubted himself when it came to his career; it was a good profession, something that demanded respect. He climbed ladder after ladder to get where he was, to obtain the status that he had within the precinct. 

But had any of that truly made him  _ happy?  _

“Keeks, look,” Alfred sighed, walking towards him. “I just think - I mean, it would be a dream, honestly, to get to work with someone like you. You’re the first guy to ever really track me down and actually get handcuffs on me.” 

He hesitated before placing a hand on Kiku’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “I like you. But I don’t wanna be your enemy anymore.”

Kiku made the mistake of looking up, meeting Alfred’s softened expression. The same look he gave him in his office just hours earlier, full of yearning and warmth that made the man’s stomach do somersaults. 

He let out a quiet sigh. “The moment I become uncomfortable with this… ‘work’, I leave. That is  _ my  _ condition.”


	4. l'idée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (the idea)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> south texas is finally experiencing a Winter and my classes are cancelled this week lets GO

Kiku Honda never once became uncomfortable with his new line of work. 

In fact, walking away from Interpol was not as hard as he thought it would be. Despite the grueling years spent in the police academy, despite the agonizing years spent building up his reputation in the workspace as well as the force, despite the never-ending chase with a petty art thief that lasted too long for comfort, he managed to leave it all behind over a simple “please” and a pair of too-blue eyes.

Perhaps he was tired of the repetitive work of a detective, of being the straight-laced, avoiding trouble at all costs detective Kiku Honda. His entire life had been planned perfectly down to the tiniest detail up until he met Alfred. The man was a ball of energy with big plans and bigger ambitions, but fell flat when it came to technicalities of the job. 

Which is where Kiku stepped in. 

They got to work quickly, making Kiku’s departure from Interpol look like a disappearance. Having been a cop, he knew how they worked and what they would do first: search his apartment, call any relatives or friends of his (of which he had little who knew about his current whereabouts), and comb through his records (which were squeaky clean). 

That left his apartment. Kiku wasn’t the sentimental type, so taking the essentials was easy. 

He held said “essentials” in one arm while the other held the essentials  _ for  _ the “essentials,” waiting for Alfred to answer the door. 

Kiku had never seen his eyes light up so quickly, not even when looking at a priceless painting. “Good lord, who is  _ this?”  _

“We agreed to only take the essentials,” Kiku said, slightly warming at how Alfred fawned over the dog in his arms, “Pochi doesn’t take up much space. Neither do his things.” 

“You didn’t tell me you had a  _ dog. _ ” Alfred eagerly took Pochi when Kiku held him out, stepping aside to let the man inside. “Y’know, this makes you about five times more attractive, officer.”

Kiku scoffed, rolling his eyes. “How attractive was I to you before?”

“You were ‘bouta ten.”

“Out of ten?” 

Alfred smiled lopsidedly. “Outta five.” 

Essentials aside, they also needed to plan their next move. Kiku had always wondered how Alfred put together his heists - if he even  _ planned _ at all - since they had all been quite successful thus far, if the collection of bandanas sitting in his office desk was anything to go by. 

Surprisingly, Alfred took his family business more seriously than Kiku had anticipated. He led the former detective into one of the rooms of his apartment, undoing the lock and switching the light on to reveal maps of nearly every museum he had visited, all posted onto bulletin boards. Brightly colored thumb tacks were pinned in certain areas, marking security cameras, blind spots, and central security control rooms, among other things. 

Kiku was dumbfounded. The room reminded him of his own office at Interpol, a handful of the same maps pinned to his own walls. Alfred’s maps were neat compared to Kiku’s angry scribbling, though. The thought made the man huff out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” The blond asked, rounding the desk in the center of the room to take a seat in the overtly plush swivel chair. 

“Nothing, just…” he looked towards Alfred, “You’re much more clever than I thought you were.” 

He turned back to the maps, eyes flickering over the few sticky notes tacked around them. Notes on staff, break times, major donors… Kiku was thoroughly impressed. What he wouldn’t give to have gotten this information months ago, when he was still pacing his office and nearly tearing his hair out wondering how on  _ earth  _ Alfred managed to escape every time. 

Kiku took his time going over each museum map, mulling over each as if he were in an art exhibit. One in particular caught his eye, fingers lightly tracing the layout. 

His voice was soft, the question genuine. “You never stopped here.”

He heard the chair creak as Alfred stood to make his way towards the map Kiku was looking at. “Oh, yeah. Never could figure out a good infiltration route. One of the busiest museums in the world an’ all.”

Kiku hummed, eyes following the museum’s hallways. He felt a hand on his waist, pulling him in just the tiniest bit closer towards Alfred. It felt odd, but a nice kind of odd. A kind that made his chest warm and stomach do somersaults, just from being  _ close _ to Alfred. 

He wondered if Alfred could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “You know, this museum has one of my favorite paintings.”

Alfred didn’t say anything for a moment, and Kiku could picture his eyebrows furrowing together in thought. “Hm… yeah? That so?” 

“ _ Liberty Leading the People,  _ I believe it’s called. Eugène Delacroix.” Kiku slid his hand over the hand on his waist, linking their fingers together as he sighs. “What I  _ wouldn’t _ do to own it…” 

“Sweetheart, I’ve tried to get in, but it’s damn near impossible,” Alfred started, but promptly shut his mouth once Kiku pulled away, shooting him a look. 

“I’m sorry, I thought I was working with one of the best art thieves in the world.” He said, stepping around the blond to lean against the desk. “Is the Black Ghost really making excuses to  _ not  _ steal?” __

Alfred ran a hand through his hair, chewing his bottom lip. He glanced from Kiku to the map of the Louvre, eyes lingering on the blueprints before finally sighing. “You really gotta pick the toughest museum for your first gig?” 

Kiku crossed his arms over his chest. “If it’s too hard for you, that’s all you need to say, Jones.” 

“It ain’t -” Alfred groaned, but it quickly turned into a huff of laughter, “You’re doin’ that on purpose, officer.”

Kiku didn’t deny it, letting the corners of his mouth quirk into a smile while Alfred stepped towards him, caging him onto the desk with his arms on either side of him. The man dipped lower, cerulean meeting cinnamon colored eyes as their lips nearly touched. 

“Won’t you steal that painting for me, Ghost?” Kiku asked, and the kiss he received was all the answer he needed. 

Their plan to steal from the Louvre in Paris, France was going to be much different from all of Alfred’s previous heists. He, or rather, the Black Ghost, worked like one: unseen and gone before anyone could even notice something was missing. 

Kiku was not the Black Ghost. 

The Louvre’s security was tough, he could tell that much just from studying the blueprints to the museum. Visiting the place, however, was much different. 

The crowds were thick, even on a Wednesday morning, but the two managed to find their way to the painting without drawing attention to themselves, blending in with the tourists easily. Kiku had seen this painting a few times before, once as a child and a few times as a teenager, but seeing it now was different. Perhaps it was because Alfred was there with him, hand tucked into Kiku’s back pocket as he subtly eyed the security cameras, or perhaps it had to do with the fact that he was viewing this painting with a newfound interest to  _ steal  _ it for himself - but whatever the reason may be, Kiku revelled in it. 

Things felt  _ exciting  _ again, since the first time he heard of the Black Ghost. 

The rest of their field trip felt more like a business trip than a weekend out, with Kiku keeping track of the locations of blind spots in his phone while Alfred kept note of the security guard posts. The museum was  _ huge,  _ and though they had their eyes on one painting, it was going to be quite the task to get into the building at night and leave without being noticed. 

The pair found themselves walking along the  _ Seine _ river once they left the museum. 

Alfred kicked a pebble along their path, hands shoved into his pockets. “Well, I don’t wanna say I told you so, but I  _ did  _ tell you so. It’s damn near impossible to get in.”

Kiku chewed the inside of his cheek. Alfred was right, but he would never admit it out loud. Rather, he stewed on what they knew and saw, trying to think of a weak point  _ somewhere  _ in the massive building. 

He pulled the map they received at the entrance from his coat pocket, unfolding it for the umpteenth time that day. Alfred glanced at him, pursing his lips. “Stare at it long enough and you’ll burn holes through it, sheriff.”

“I believe you said  _ you  _ were going to steal this for me, Jones.” Kiku muttered, going over the first floor’s layout.

“Sure, I’ll get it for you,” Alfred slung an arm around the man’s shoulders, “but you gotta come up with a plan, first.”

Kiku rolled his eyes, but didn’t move away. The first floor was simple enough, but it was the only floor with enough blindspots to get them to the next floor. From then on, it was nearly impossible to get through without cutting the security cameras. 

He breathed out through his nose. This would be so much simpler if they had behind-the-scenes access to the building. From there, they could cut the security long enough to get the painting out and down the river.

Kiku stopped in his tracks. 

He looked up towards Alfred, “How good is your French?”

“Uh,” Alfred thought for a moment,  _ “Ça va?” _

_ “Bien,”  _ Kiku said, folding the map up and tucking it away into his pocket, “We apply tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "ca va?" - how are you
> 
> btw......I started a (small) playlist for this fic bc my unwell mind cannot stop thinking of this au............... have a listen [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0S4oVBHh4hGMXxlZcbB7Lo?si=M7bfZE7jQCi0VHggRdrXyA):]


End file.
